


Just Past Noon

by HerenorThereNearnorFar



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: A Lot of Deaths but All in The Past Tense, Coming Together as A Town And Helping Each Other Out, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-19
Updated: 2017-09-19
Packaged: 2018-12-31 12:08:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12132171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HerenorThereNearnorFar/pseuds/HerenorThereNearnorFar
Summary: Refuge during chapter nine of the Eleventh Hour arc. Where Ren takes charge and Cassidy earns her mayorship.





	Just Past Noon

 

The world froze as memory rushed back into their heads. Across the bar, Ren saw Ash drop their playing cards. Ole’ Mountain was a classical statue, like the kind she’d seen in fancy places above ground, before she’d found Refuge and settled down.

Deaths, deaths, deaths, deaths, Taako. _Taako_. How in the high heck had she forgotten about him? How’d they forgotten any of this, and how’d they come back to life? Ren could remember dying a thousand times over, usually in the bank, in a rush of fire and pain, but sometimes outside when the ground collapsed beneath her. Once or twice, Isaak had tried to herd them all to safety and they’d died there, on the outskirts of town, in the mayor’s mansion, or amid the ruins of the temple o’ Istus. That fancy out of town goddess hadn’t protected them much then.

She tasted blood in her mouth, and realized she’d bit her tongue. Dark elf blood was bitter, with a hint of strychnine. Not enough to kill someone unless they drank a gallon of it, but enough that she made sure to be careful not to nick herself and bleed near the food. Though it shouldn’t have hurt her, she still spit it out, a dark glob onto the floor. She’d had enough of dying to last for years.

That motion was enough to break the spell. Mountain flipped the table, sending Ash diving for cover.

“What the hell was that?” they yowled, already drawing their wand. Ren shook her head desperately, and found she didn’t have much urge to reach for her own rod. What could she do if the earth started crashing in again? She didn’t even know much abjuration!

“I don’t know, but let’s stay calm,” she said, her voice quaking. The other patrons, sleepy former miners, little Yashua who’d offered to play the piano for her since he’d gotten a fancy city schooling, the old school marm nursing a whisky, were looking to her instinctively and that terrified her. Still, she’d kept her cool through the same bar brawl at least a thousand times by now, she could probably handle the end of the world. “It’s not noon yet. Someone go find Roswell.” Isaak, Isaak who seemed to remember in their memories, was suspect but Roswell was dependable. “Everyone else, I’d mightily recommend you go roundup your families, but bring them back here. If we’re going to make it through this, we’re going to do it together.”

There was a rumble from beneath them, immediately undercutting their words. Everyone fled anyways, though Ren wasn’t sure if it was on her instructions or pure instinct. She and Ash stepped outside, into the town square, while Mountain, always the responsible one, started sprinting for the Elder’s mansion. They were both looking, she knew, for anything out of place. Something had changed this time. They’d remembered, and now the ground was shaking too hard a half an hour too soon.

Through the door of the bank, she could see Brogden, peering over her desk but resolutely not moving (she’d always had a stubborn loyalty, that woman). Jerry and Greg were hanging out of the door, looking around for threats. The sheriff’s office was quivering slightly, as if someone were trying to punch their way out of it.

Ren used her rod to poke the swinging doors open, and looked inside. She was terrified it was Redmond or some of his purple boys, she loved them but she’d died at their hands plenty of times, though she knew they hadn’t meant it. Instead she found Cassidy banging away at the walls of a cell.

Ren swung her rod back into its holster with a sigh. Cassidy wasn’t much of a threat. She liked hard cider, wrestling, and excitable parties, but she always paid her tab when she was reminded.

She rounded around, eyes wide and hair wild. “We durn’ died!” she exclaimed, and Ren nodded.

“We durn’ well did,” she agreed. “Want me to let you out? I reckon what with everything going on you probably didn’t do nothing to the temple.” Cassidy had said as much one hour, when she’d broken out and fought Roswell in the town square. That hour hadn’t ended well for either of them.

Cassidy bounded back over to the cell door, eagerness matched only by a little caution. “That would be mighty nice, Miss Ren. But I’ve got to warn you, I’ll be trying to stop that worm if I can.”

“Just stick with us, we’ll stop it together,” Ren told her, then blasted the lock of the door. Then the words soaked in, like water into the parched dust on a rare rainy day. “Wait, it’s a worm?”

“Purple worm,” Cassidy confirmed, “Seen it myself. Tried to stop it too, but I never managed.”

An Underdark girl like her doesn’t know much about Purple Worms, except that they’re big and dangerous and not to be messed with. Her years in the Woven Gulch has added, “bad for mining” and “shy on their own” to that limited repertoire of knowledge.

She didn’t know how to stop one, but that’s what other people are for. Ren gestured Cassidy outside. “We’ll see what we can do about that,” she said as confidently as she could.

Outside Ash and Mountain were back together, which felt right, on some level. Them being separated, even briefly, was a betrayal of the natural order of things. Besides, Ash would get themselves punched too often without a caring friend nearby.

“Hey ‘fellas!” Cassidy shouted, “We got a purple worm situation on our hands! Anyone have any ideas on how to stop it?”

They both relaxed when they see Ren with the now former jailbird, and widened their huddle.

“Couldn’t find Roswell anywhere,” Mountain rumbled.

“Hey, uh, hey Ren?” Ash had the slightly wheedling look of someone staving off panic, “If we’re all going to, you know, die, can you start handing out free drinks? It would be a public service.” Greg from the bank joined their circle just in time to hear that and blanched.

“Nobody’s dying here today,” Ren insisted, and was surprised to find Cassidy backing her up.

“Not this time, friend. I’ve got lots and lots of good ideas, from toes to hair.”

They all waited, patiently, for salvation. A few more bar regulars and bank patrons had gravitated to the huddle in their fear.

“We should hide,” she said triumphantly. “Put up lots of magical type shields to protect us. I don’t think the sheriff ever tried that.”

It’s true, he never had. He tried to get them out of town, sure enough, had tried to hide them in vaults and caverns, but magic had never been Isaak’s forte. The man was mine-born and too sensible for arcane mysteries. Ren remembered too clearly that Jack had always been a quicker hand at spells.

Perhaps more importantly, Ren thought, her heart quickening, he’d never asked them to help. Surely all of the dozen or so magicians in town could put up a better safeguard than one man could. None of them were brilliant, but they were all competent, in a frontier way.

Ash blinked, “I’m down for not dying any day, you all know me, but we’d need to gather everyone up, and we’d need a safe place to put them. You can’t play sardines with a hundred people just anywhere.”

There was a raspy sigh from behind them, and they turned to see Sheriff Isaak hauling himself out of the dry well. Clinging to his chest like a baby possum was a little girl in a dusty yellow dress, with braids fraying and eyes squeezed shut. It took a second to recognize little June, though her statue stood just up main street.

“What in _tarnation_ ,” Cassidy breathed, sounding as stunned as Ren felt.

“Hey, Sheriff?” said Greg from the bank, “What the fuck is going on?” It was more to the point, she had to admit.

Isaak coughed a few times, and carefully set June down before he answered, leaving seconds of unimaginable confusion and fear while they waited.

Eventually, he straightened and said, “It’s too complicated to explain right now, but we need to get everyone to safety,”

Moving for all of them, champion of the people, Cassidy grabbed him by his collar, “I ain’t sure that’s good enough, Sheriff.”

Little June tapped her on the elbow. Her eyes were watery, but they had an unsettling focus Ren didn’t recall from the June of her memories.

“Time cup was evil, manipulated everyone, stuck us in this loop for a long time and stuck me in a bubble with it. Now we’re out and the strangers from out of town are leading the worm away but we gotta go somewhere safe. That good enough?” she told them all, and there was an urgency in her voice that was impossible to ignore.

There was some muttering. “It’ll do, little lady,” said Redmond from the back of the crowd. Slowly, the people made way for him and his little coterie. Ren fought the urge to flinch at the sight of purple kerchiefs, remembering explosion after explosion after explosion. But this was no time for petty arguments, they were all in this bubble together, like it or not. “I’ll be the first to admit I made some mistakes, but even I realize we’ve got to get our people somewhere safe. But where’s it going to be?”

“Bank vault.” Ren said without thinking. “It’ll be tight but we can squeeze and I know it already has wards. If everyone with magic works together we might be able to augment them.”

“It works,” Isaak agreed slowly. “Round up everyone in-”

“Hey, Elder?” Ash said lightly, “Please shut up. It’ll go better for everyone.”

June giggled. She was slowly moving away from Isaak and to the mass of townsfolk, and Ren caught her with her free hand. Presuming her daddy was still dead, and seeing how she didn’t seem much disposed towards Isaak at the moment, someone needed to keep an eye on her. June allowed herself to be reeled in and clung to Ren’s apron tightly, rubbing the fabric between two fingers like she was amazed it was even real.

The ground shook, and a sound like a scream issued from it. It was like the earth itself was shouting.

Without anyone else to do so, Cassidy started giving orders, for everyone to go and find their family, their neighbours, anyone else. A fast young woman was dispatched to grab Paloma, only for her to show up a minute later at a leisurely pace, which was so her. Redmond himself bowed out after giving marching orders to his militia, claiming he had someone he needed to grab from up the mountain, and to wait for him if they could.

“Where’s Roswell?” someone shouted, and Isaak hesitated.  
  
“They’re helping stop the worm,” he said eventually. “They’ll be back when the others are.”

That wasn’t promising. Ren idolized Taako, but what she’d seen of his methodology from the past dozen hours did not inspire a ton of confidence.

She hoped they’d be okay. Cooking and fighting a giant worm weren’t that dissimilar, were they? And Roswell was all but invincible, she had to trust they’d be fine.

One hand in June’s, she went to go convince Brogden to please let them into her vault.

It was trickier than anyone might have expected. Brogden still wasn’t completely convinced this whole “died a few thousand times” thing wasn’t part of an especially elaborate bank robbery. Only when Ren pointed out that nothing in there didn’t belong to the town and that the whole town was convinced as well, they wouldn’t need to rob the place, just make about a hundred withdrawals, did she give in.

“We aren’t fire coded for so many people,” she warned, fretfully.

“It’s okay,” Ren said, “Annie Pickaxe promised to find some Bags of Holding to shove skinny people inside.”

She got her and June a corner as people started to pour in. Burly mining dwarves and orcs took up a lot of space in the little vault, as did the sturdy forms of humans. She wished, not for the first time, that the town was populated entirely by gnomes. Compact and stackable, ideal for emergency situations. The many shaped bodies slowly piling into the vault were too much. The lanky drow geologist who spoke sign with her on slow afternoons was all but standing on top of the owner of the general store. Ole’ Mountain took up the space of three men.

Ash was trying to organize their magicians, to no avail, and it looked like the stress of that was about to make them snap and murder somebody. Ren waded through the press of townspeople, June trailing after her, and helped them cast every shield spell they knew. There weren’t that many. It was a small town, none of them had ended up here by being magical prodigies, and they had a limited collective repertoire. Isaak silently lent a hand, doing what he was told and seeming relieved to be limited to that.

The ground beneath them was still rumbling, shaking and shouting like a priest trying to make Midsummer real interesting. Fear permeated the small space. Children were crying openly now, but not June. She just stuck by Ren and stared back at everyone who stared at her. There was a lot of staring. It wasn’t every day a town hero came back from the dead.

When Redmond burst in carrying a skeleton, it felt like it had been hours. In truth, Ren reckoned it had been maybe fifteen minutes. Time passed differently in panic, it was like syrup, slowing down everything. Now, with Redmond inside, panting, time seemed to speed back up.

“I checked twice,” he said, “Shouted a lot. Nobody left in town unless they’re hiding.” The skeleton in his arms was looking around in mild interest, but no one paid it much mind.

“Headcount!” Cassidy demanded. It was an old mine practice, after a cave in, to tally up the people still around. It wasn’t well suited for a tiny room packed full, with more people squeezed into extra-dimensional spaces inside. While a headcount was shakily drawn up, Brogden closed the vault door, preemptively locking them in.  
  
It was dark, inside the bank vault. The place hadn’t been made with the living in mind. Instantly light sprung forth from hands, even babies knew Make Light. The sickly magical glow from conflicting sources cast strange shadows on the walls. Ren pulled June into her arms, trying to take up as little space as possible between the two of them.

“That’s everyone,” Cassidy eventually called out, as the whole room shook.

“Speech!” someone demanded.

It was almost certainly a joke, but Cassidy took it at face value. She always did, humour didn’t flourish underground. No one ever jokingly said, “Now blow that thing up,” or if they did they didn’t have very long or successful careers.

“Well, I reckon we’re like a family in some ways,” Cassidy said ponderously. “Family is born together and lives together and sometimes dies together. That’s why a mine is a family. Now we are too. We’ve died together enough, I reckon, more than most people manage. We came back to life together, even if we didn’t realize it at the time and that’s a lot like being born. And we’ve lived together an awful lot. The same bit over and over again, I figure is what you call a routine. And if we’re a family then we can damn well act like one, and make it through this family-like.”

She leaned against a wall, speech clearly over and done. A few people clapped, half heartedly, but the shaking soon put a stop to that.

It was somehow worse without something to do. The silence and the closed environment of the vault made the earthquakes feel more awful, more threatening. There were muffled sobs in the darkness, and the mass of Refuge around Ren was claustrophobically close.

She’d grown up underground, lived underground, but that had been a big underground, an underground of wide open spaces. She didn’t like to feel enclosed, trapped in the earth with death oncoming.

Redmond and the skeleton, his brother Luca back from the dead metaphorically speaking, started up a hymn that floundered quickly. Nobody quite knew the words, Istus was only a moderately popular goddess and all that fluff about fate’s design seemed weak in a situation like this.

June patted Ren’s swiftly rising and falling chest. “Are you okay, miss?” she asked.

Ren considered lying to children, then remembered this child’s knowing eyes. “I don’t want to die again,” she admitted, in an undertone.

“I don’t want to die at all,” June agreed, equally soft.

“What time is it?” Ren asked, not even sure why she thought this little girl, time touched though she clearly was, would know. June, unsurprisingly, rose to occasion.

“11:51.”

That was far too long to wait, in Ren’s inexpert opinion, and the crowd was growing restless. A baby was crying, a loud screech over the background din. It wasn’t a fun or flirty atmosphere at all.

She rapped a few times on the vault wall for attention. Once she had it, she raised her voice.

“ _Oh, ninety nine bottles of beer on the wall, ninety nine bottles of beer…_ ”

Ash joined in quickly, delighted by anything both productive and mischievous. It was catchier than a hymn to Istus of the Eight Circular Knitting Needles, and it was loud. Once they had enough people singing, they could almost drown out the mutiny of the earth below.

Ren knew little about crisis management, did not know how to reconcile their new years of repeated memories with anything approaching normalcy, but she could handle a hostile bar.

At seventy eight bottles, June laughed out loud, so sudden and bright that singing immediately ground to a halt. Ren loosened the arms she had wrapped around the girl’s shoulders so she could look at her.

“It’s 12:01,” June whispered as a lighter, more distant quake shook the vault. “We’re gonna be fine. They made Refuge safe.”

In their twelfth hour, the first in forever, they waited together companionably for the shaking to stop.

 

 


End file.
